DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Something more Coffee
By Kristina K


She could take anything. Being shot at. Being spat on. Being lied to. Even comforting her ex husband's current wife in an unlikely place like the bullpen's bathroom stall didn't seem so strange anymore. But sitting there at the edge of Jill's sofa and feeling very much like a teenage boy about to get his cherry popped by Mrs. Robinson, now that was very new and quite out of the ordinary for Lindsay Boxer. With lights around the room dimmed and that "Would you like to come up for a night cap?" Jill offered, which Lindsay then slightly awkwardly accepted, all that was missing was Barry White playing on the stereo and the usually-cool-inspector-is-about-to-freak-out scene would be imminent.

She contemplated on leaving about two dozen times in the last five minutes as she repeatedly wiped her tenaciously clammy palms against her jean-clad thighs. The inside of her cheek started to hurt after being chewed on in a nervous fit for too long, and her heart was this close to thump its way out, right through her chest.

Lindsay stood up, sat back down and then stood up again. She shook her hands loose, twisted her neck like fighters do right before a boxing match, and took a few deep – hopefully calming – breaths.

Sound of footsteps approaching made Lindsay tense once again and when the door leading to the adjacent room opened and Jill was there, smiling at her, Lindsay wished she'd remained seated because then bucking of her knees wouldn't be so god damn obvious. Dear god, she looks so good.

"Sorry," Jill apologized as she walked up closer, and then tossed her cell phone into her bag. "Denise needed me to take her through a witness' statement I took today."

Lindsay gave her a lopsided smile and wave of hand. Her way of saying, Don't worry about it.

"What would you like to drink? I have tequila." Jill grinned and Lindsay suspected that was because Jill remembered rather vividly how quickly Lindsay goes from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde after only a few shots of it. A complete transformation from a law-abiding cop to a streaker.

"I'll take beer if you have one."

"Anchor Steam okay?" Jill asked over her shoulder as she went for the fridge.

Shoving her hands down the pockets of her jeans, Lindsay shrugged, "Sure." She took a three-sixty tour around the room with her eyes, as if she'd never been to Jill's apartment before. And it sure felt like the first time, with butterflies in her stomach and everything.

"Here you go," Jill's voice startled her and Lindsay spun, coming face to face with a slightly shorter, slightly younger, but a much more self-assured woman. Jill. Her friend. Dear god, she has got to be insane.

Two amber bottles sweated in Jill's hands (and how could they not?), caps already taken off, with bitter liquid ready to be thirstily gulped down. Lindsay accepted the one offered to her and then bumped its neck against the neck of Jill's bottle. She gave a nervous smile instead of Cheers! and then tilted the bottle far enough to really gulp the beer down.

Jill smiled knowingly, "Thirsty, aren't ya?"

"The fries I had with my sandwich earlier were really salty," Lindsay explained.

"Is that what it is?"

Liar, liar, pants on fire, rang in Lindsay's head and she knew there was no way she could bullshit Jill or even try to play coy with the woman who knew her inside and out.

"You know what I like about this evening, Boxer?" Jill tilted her head to the side, leisurely holding her beer like an accessory. "You always act so tough. So detached. So stoic." Jill took a sip from the bottle, "I'm actually enjoying watching you squirm right now."

"I am not squirming." Lindsay protested with a frown.

"Yes you are." Jill chuckled. "And you're also about to pull a muscle from trying so hard not to look down at my cleavage."

And it was hard not to look, which is why as soon as Jill mentioned it, Lindsay's eyes slipped lower to where Jill's upper chest stood generously unveiled, all the way from her collarbone down to a supple curve of her breasts. Lindsay gripped the bottle in her hand tighter at the fact that she'd just been busted for sneaking a peek at her friend's cleavage. Which is exactly what Jill wanted her to do.


"I thought this is what you wanted." Jill hushed her voice to a soothing, non-teasing tone.

"It is," Lindsay replied just as softly.

"So what's the problem then?"

"Do I really need to point it out?"

"Lindsay," Jill sighed with a smile. She pried the bottle away from Lindsay's fingers and set it aside together with her own. "You've made the first move."

"I have?"

"Showing up like this," Jill waved her finger at Lindsay's appearance – the always casual, nonchalant, tough-cop-who-has-no-time-for-titivating chic the inspector so fabulously managed to pull off without even trying. "How do you expect me to stay calm, cool and collected? It's a ploy, isn't it, Inspector?"

Lindsay's confidence level suddenly started to ascend. Her lips twitched into a smirk, "It's just how I dress." She drawled.

"And then there's the hair," Jill continued. "And the eyes and the arched eyebrow." They were smiling at each other now, at which Jill pointed out: "And that cocky smile from the corner of your lips…"

"Don't forget my tall frame and smoky voice." Lindsay quipped.


Lindsay exhaled, soothed a bit by their flirty exchange, "So what are you saying?"

"Kiss me before I lose all of my nerve and show you how I'm actually an even bigger nervous wreck than you are?"

No one could make Lindsay blush like Jill could. It didn't matter if it was an innocent walk-by compliment, a smile at her joke, a not so subtle look over or a confession like that one was. It didn't matter, because with Jill, Lindsay didn't have to pretend.

At the same time they both took a step forward making the space between them disappear. Jill's arms encircled the taller woman's waist as she blinked sweetly at Lindsay's smiling face, now completely devoid of doubt and tension.

"Last chance to change your mind." Lindsay whispered just shy of Jill's lips.

With her eyes closed and Lindsay's fingers in her hair, Jill smiled. "Not in a million years."

The End

Return to Women's Murder Club Fiction

Return to Main Page